


Blood Like Rain

by PippinPips



Series: Birthday Ficlets [9]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Character Deaths, Dark Charles, Dark Erik, Dark Magic, M/M, Non linear storytelling, Violence, birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-28
Updated: 2012-08-28
Packaged: 2017-11-13 01:32:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PippinPips/pseuds/PippinPips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ritual, deaths, and magic. </p>
<p>Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr are not men to be trifled with. </p>
<p>Birthday Fic for <a href="../users/MonstrousRegiment/pseuds/MonstrousRegiment">Reg</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Like Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MonstrousRegiment](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonstrousRegiment/gifts).



> Is the title depressingly teenager-ish enough? Good, good. Hahaha, I really couldn't think of anything. So there we go. This is very early Regulus' birthday isn't until Sept 1st, but I wanted to give her ample time to read her birthday fic. 
> 
> So, cheers darling I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> Plus it's the 28th where you are.

To say she wasn’t expecting it was a little bit of an understatement. She had stood at the edge of the chasm staring down on where they’d had jumped, and wondering if anyone was going to find the bodies. Sixteen hours they’d spent scouring the surfaces looking for the men. If pressed she would’ve said she had no idea why they did anything they did. She’d known Charles since he was thirteen, a young bubbly man with a heart of gold (at least she’d though it had been gold). Yet at seventeen he had gone backpacking across Europe and returned with Erik Lehnsherr. She’d never cared for Lehnsherr, though Raven and Emma seemed a little warmer towards him, but she also knew that it was Charles’ decision on whom he dated and whom he kicked to the curb. Plus, by then she’d never seen Lehnsherr do anything to cause harm to Charles. From her position Erik was utterly besotted with Charles. 

For years, she’d been so sure, so very sure, that Erik had poisoned Charles, yet as she stood at the edge staring down at the black shadows, Moira couldn’t convince herself that Charles was completely innocent. She’d seen the look on his face as he turned heel and stared down at her, there was a darkness and there was something broken in him, something she’d seen for years behind a thin veneer of happiness and contentment. It was a wild darkness that sprung up whenever Charles had too much to drink, and he would start talking about the magical theories. He’d spoken about taking the power for himself, attaining some greatness with Erik by his side. Erik. Lehnsherr. Moira questioned his mortality, but she’d seen him bleed. She’d seen him bare his teeth and lick at the wound before throwing enchanted daggers at her partner striking the man dead. 

You have to take their gifts. Charles had said once, she hadn’t known what the hell he’d meant, or even if it had meant anything. Charles had been so dazed eyes staring up at the ceiling as she dabbed at the blood. So much blood. Then Lensherr pushed her away and Charles clung to him fingers digging into him, and for a moment it was like they were one. Just as they were when they jumped. 

Summers arrived at her side, mopping up the sweat by his brow before he too glanced down. 

“Can’t find them.” 

“No trace?”

“None, there isn’t even trace of magic down there so we know they didn’t use any to cushion their fall.” Her stomach clenched. Charles was brilliant and so was Lehnsherr. They were so smart, so dark and terrifying as they interacted. A large part of her wondered how they had hidden so well in plain sight behind Charles’ smile. 

“Check again. There has to be something.” Even if what she had seen were just shadows. Shadows thrived in twilight. They worked easier in twilight as well, had more juice to actually convince mortals they were real. She remembered that lesson from Sean before, before they’d ripped his vocal chords out. 

Blood. So much blood. 

“Yes ma’am.” Alex nodded towards her. He left, and he didn’t look back. He didn’t even glance as Moira stepped forward. Her feet along the edge and peered over it once more. She could’ve jumped; she could’ve fallen to her death except a hand grabbed her and held her still. 

“Not so quickly, Miss MacTaggert,” Charles purred against her ear. Erik’s grip on her tightened. 

“I told you she would start to figure it out,” Erik grumbled. Charles laughed as if something hilarious was actually said, as if something could be funny at that moment. 

“I didn’t doubt it, but I wanted to see how quickly she could.” Moira let out a shuddering breath; of course he did ever the scientist that Charles Xavier. “You know, I am rather ashamed to say this, but you beat my expectations Moira.” Erik obviously had nothing to add to that except for a snort. 

“Why won’t you just leave it be Xavier?” she spat. Saying his last name, pushing their relationship to the point where they could only refer to each other to their surnames hurt more than she thought it would. It almost tore at her chest and heart like some sort of monster. She had to glance down at where Lehnsherr held her to make sure he wasn’t ripping her chest open. He wasn’t. 

“Because Moira, that mind of yours. It’s your special gift.” She wanted to scream, but she already knew that Lehnsherr had made sure she didn’t. Instead she turned her head and looked at Charles. The expression was very much on his face.

“I don’t surpass you,” she stated. Charles gave a quick smile. 

“Not many do and those I knew who could’ve are all, well, to be perfectly honest gone.” Her mind flashed towards Hank and then to Emma. Moira wondered which one had given the killing blow, but then her stomach rolled and she no longer wished to know. Her body tensed as Erik pushed her slightly forward and she leaned further over the chasm. What she didn’t see was her life flashing before her eyes because they wouldn’t let her go that easily, not after Charles deemed her mind special. Erik yanked her back and she knocked into his chest, her air flying from her lips. “You’re not calling for help.” Charles mused. 

“Wouldn’t do me any good,” Moira gritted out. Charles laughed and Erik followed suit, his chest shaking at her back. 

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Erik commented. 

“We’ve done absolutely nothing. Screaming actually might’ve saved you.” She didn’t open her mouth to scream, though Erik covered her mouth as a precaution. If she was smart, if she’d wanted to fight anymore she would’ve struggled. Except she didn’t want to fight them anymore. Back when Charles was still innocent, when Lehnsherr was the demon, she would fight to the last breath, but it was Charles that leaned forward and peered into her eyes with a malicious grin on his face. “Let her go, Erik, she isn’t going to fight. You want to return to Sean’s side?” he asked. 

“What happened to you?” she asked. His face morphed for a moment to something so ugly that she was sure that he was a shadow, but he couldn’t be because his shadow had jumped. 

“Why? Are you going to try to fix it? Make it all better with apologies and your sympathy?” he hissed . 

“Charles.” The way Erik’s voice dipped low and soothing, sent a pang of shame through Moira. She’d always thought he was the unbalanced one, but he turned out to be the one who needed to reign in Charles. She was wrong, so wrong. She clenched her eyes shut. 

“No,” she whispered. The magic crackled around her, dipping into her body and soul, tainting her as they faded. 

*

If he hadn’t watched as Charles destroyed her, Erik would never know that the body before him is that of Moira MacTaggert. He can just barely tell that she is female. Turning his head, he gives a grim smile that Charles refuses to share with him and is instead pouring over the books before him. 

“Satisfied?” he asks. Charles’ glare is enough to send a trill of warning through his body, though Charles promises that he likes him too much to make good on whatever threats he sends Erik’s way. Erik is careful to acknowledge that if Charles ever wants to end him the other man has enough power to do so, but then again Erik can do his own damage. 

“I need another donation, she wasn’t enough,” Charles curses. He rubs a hand against his bottom lip. “I seem to have overestimated her.” 

“Like Raven?” Erik steps closer, if he pauses he can still see as the light dimmed in Raven’s eyes as well as the look of betrayal forever imprinted on her face. Erik remembers all the faces, and at times he wonders if it’s the faces that Charles remembers or if it’s what makes them special that lights his thoughts. He never asks, instead he just settles back against the wall and watches as Charles drags his fingers over the text and mutters to himself. There is a blue light around Charles’ fingers as he reads, his power sears through the air and Erik just wants to bathe in it. It’s like the moments when they first met.

Charles had had so much untapped power, just coursing through his veins and such an innocent look in his eyes, a look that Erik knew now as a mask. Too bad no one else knew that before it was too late. Charles turns to him almost as if he knows exactly what Erik is thinking, though Erik won’t put it past him that he does indeed know. 

“Problem?” he asks. 

“I can’t have mistaken it all. Raven, she should’ve.” Charles shakes his head. “No, no problem darling.” He moves towards Erik and rests against him, hands splaying along his chest. 

“Fixed it already?” Erik makes another inquiry. Charles just hums whilst nosing along his jaw, hot breath against his neck. Erik feels the magic snapping between them, he also feels it as Charles borrows a bit of his. “Is this how it ends?” He seems unable to stop asking questions. Charles presses a wet kiss to his neck.

“No darling, this is how it begins. Don’t fight,” he softly says. Erik closes his eyes and he allows Charles to do what he will. Before Charles, his life was only a mission of retribution against those who caused his distress. After Charles arrived it changed slowly but surely into a quest of more, more than just himself. Erik feels his body begin to weaken and right before he feels like the edge is near and he’s about to topple over, Charles stops. 

“Shhh, shhh, don’t cry,” Charles whispers and it takes Erik a few moments to realize he is indeed crying. Or at least part of him is. Erik wonders if he is afraid of death, or afraid of spending an eternity without Charles. 

“You stopped.” 

“I am not going to lose you to this spell, just, sit, sit down,” Charles says. He brushes as Erik’s hair, and he has no choice but to obey. He can no longer stand on his own accord. Charles steps away his power crackling and more volatile than ever. Erik only watches as his lover leaves. There will be blood when he returns. Though whose, Erik can only imagine as he sits slumped by the wall. 

Charles reappears an hour later holding food in his hands. He looks tired and like he’s about to collapse next to Erik. His hands brush along Erik’s face. “Eat, eat darling. You need your strength up.” There are moments when Charles seems to adopt to looks of his old self, and it’s only for him. Erik doesn’t pointedly mention that the only reason he needs his strength up is because Charles stole it from him. However, he does give Charles a wry smirk before he latches onto the food that has been brought for him. The food tastes dry and rather unappealing, but Erik wolfs it down none the less. His energy returns almost immediately, but not all of it. Not quite yet. 

“Infused?” Charles’ shoulders relax and he nods. 

“The best we can do for now. After this, after all of it, we’ll be able to get you back to being settled,” Charles tells him. Erik nods. What he wants is to ask Charles exactly what he needs his powers for if not to suck him dry, except there is also a segment of himself that cares less about it and knows that Charles will end up confiding him in. 

Just like the young seventeen year old, whom had burrowed his way into Erik’s chest, finding himself comfort where he had not thought to look before. 

“I needed your shade.” Charles speaks up, he settles himself down on Erik’s thighs. His weight becomes something that Erik quickly acclimates to. Resting his hands on Charles’ hips he looks into blue eyes and just loses himself for a moment. It doesn’t hurt as much as when Charles pulls at his magic, he still feels the emptiness from it. The magic in the food doesn’t quite fill him, it lacks what is his. 

“I am assuming our newest donation is in the next room,” Erik comments. He reaches up and threads his fingers through Charles’ wavy hair. 

“It should be enough,” Charles promises. He curls his fingers in Erik’s hair and presses his forehead to Erik’s. “It will work. It has to work.” 

“And if it doesn’t?” Erik brings up the possibility, Charles’ grip tightens. 

“I will get another, the deadline is in four days.” Four days, Erik allows himself an angry growl at the thought of being so powerless for four more days, his remaining grip on Charles’ hip turns bruising. Charles doesn’t complain. He only wiggles a tiny bit before he settles back down. 

“I know, I know. It was necessary.” Erik doesn’t doubt that, he’s never seen Charles do something that unnecessary, all the deaths are precise and to specifications. “Do you want to see what I brought you?” 

“With my magic?” Erik points out. Charles smiles his eyes dark as he looks on. 

“Yes, with your magic,” Charles agrees. Before he can move though, Erik pulls him closer and breathes him in. They both stay in one spot for a few moments, keeping their eyes closed. Charles is pressing so close to him, Erik almost thinks they’ll become one being. He places a hand on Charles’ shoulders, nudging him back before nodding towards the other room. Charles just smiles before he rolls off of him and onto his feet. “You will not believe our luck, darling, he was right there. We could’ve waited with her for a few moments and we would’ve gotten him.” Erik only ponders for a few moments of the likelihood of finding two specials in the same area., except, then he muses that he and Charles have a knack at finding groups. 

The boy is blonde. He immediately glares and spits at them with a ferocity Erik is sure that Charles did not deserves. So when he digs his knife into the man’s thigh it’s only retribution for the boy’s manners, and if he hisses at the boy for him to watch his mouth, well there is no one to stop him but Charles. 

“I knew it couldn’t be fucking true! Too good to be!” the boy snarles. He clenches at the table they have him strapped too, but he doesn’t really fight. The only one that had was Raven, begging and pleading for them to just stop the madness.

“Sounds like you have a personal stake in this,” Charles muses. “What did we do to you?”

“You fucking psychos probably can’t remember how many people you’ve killed, so why should it matter?” 

“You’ll be number eleven. Want to try again?” Erik tells him. 

“Darwin! You fucking killed Darwin!” the boy all but screams at them. Charles’ gaze is utterly confused by who the boy means, and for once Erik can’t help him either.

“Does he go by any other names?” Charles asks, his tone is bored and Erik knows the longer it lasts the more Charles will want to damage it all. Erik thinks on to what shape their donation has to be, and if he needs to hold Charles back. 

“Armando!” Charles looks back at him and sighs. 

“Oh that one. Skin. Messy, messy,” Charles murmurs. He rubs a hand against his bottom lip. “Your torso should do.” Erik knows Charles isn’t talking to him. Charles isn’t talking to anyone. He still hands over the knife none the less.

“You son of a bitch! You like this! You like killing!” 

“I am doing this for your pitiful world! I am doing this so others can, so it won’t happen again,” Charles hisses. He brings the knife down and slices along the blonde boy’s chest. Erik watches as the blood wells up and beads along the neat cut. Charles is always so careful, but Erik is the one who does it best. Charles hands over the knife without a word. 

The boy screams at first, and then eventually he stops. Erik does not even glance towards him instead he keeps on his work, nice and steady. He hands never shake. At some point, Charles wraps his arms around him and presses his cheek to his shoulder blades. He feels the hot breath against his skin as it filters through his light shirt, but, more importantly, Erik feels his borrowed magic as it twists and pulls away from him, trying to escape. He stills if only to wonder if his magic is doing the same within Charles or if it feels at home. 

“So beautiful,” Charles tells him. Erik only smiles and continues on his work. He’s sure the boy is dead from the shock of being skinned alive. It doesn’t matter, Erik muses as he returns to his work. It only takes him a few more moments before he steps back and looks at his handy work. The boy is dead, but the skin is near perfect. “Take what makes him special,” Charles orders, he is panting, and his body vibrates behind Erik like some sort of toy. Erik nods his head. He likes this part, it’s one of his favorite moments to just take what will give them what they need. 

Cracking the blonde’s chest, he reaches in and grasps it. Everyone’s special gift is in a different area of their body. Some harbor them in their chests, some in their minds, and some oddly enough just like Cassidy hold them in their throats, just begging to be torn out. It’s warm when he grasps it and it feels like fire except worse. Erik nearly lets it go from the pain, but he was Shaw’s progeny before Charles came along and made everything so very different. 

Erik pulls it out and places it in Charles’ open hands, if only to listen as Charles opens his mouth and gasps. 

“It feels like the last one.” Erik says. Charles nods in agreement. He divvies up the gift. Erik watches as Charles presses his part of the gift into his chest. Taking his own portion, Erik presses it to his own skin. He doesn’t hiss as it burns through him violently tearing at his body, each one has its own way of settling within the body. “Charles,” he whispers. Charles comes to him, hands latching onto his body and they press close. 

“It is done,” Charles murmurs against his heating flesh. Lips are like their own bursts of flames as they touch him. 

“Now,” Erik demands. Charles nods. 

*

 

Magic rips from souls, severing forever, and Charles laughs. With each severing, the magic pours into him. Erik stands beside him, head titling upwards and eyes shut tight. He breathes in deeply, his chest expanding and Charles cannot move his gaze away. In the end it will just be them. They will, they will hold the only powers. They will set everything; they will not be gods, no, for gods mean nothing, when humans gain the strength. He steps forward, even as another wave hits them, his movements obvious still Erik tenses for a few moments before his muscles slowly release. His eyes crack open, gray-green-blue all muddled together. 

“Did you ever think it’d feel this way?” he asks. Erik looks on, past him, towards the horizon where the magic is visible as it twists and turns amongst the smoke of fire. 

“I didn’t think it would feel like freedom,” Erik whispers. Charles places a kiss along Erik’s jaw and then a nip. “Everyone who actually knew us is dead, those who knew them now have nothing of which they can use to stop us.” Charles hums, he drags his fingers along Erik’s chest and just continues to hum. Erik makes no other comment, the horizon still draws his attention, pulls him away from it all, Charles feels a slight twinge of jealousy, the thought that Erik wants something more than him. 

Yet he still, his mouth open as he lets out a deep breath, there is nothing to take Erik’s attention away from him. At least not any more. He presses his fingers hard against Erik’s body and waits. It doesn’t take long, Erik is always quick to notice him. Erik had been so delightfully quick years ago. 

“Can you feel it?” he demands. Erik looks at him, eyes hard and jaw even harder. “Your magic is it returning?”

“Yes,” Erik breathes out. It’s like relief yet so deep within both of them. “Do you?”

“I feel it all. I feel my powers and theirs. I remember their faces, the way their eyes looked. Eleven people dead at our hands. No one would’ve thought that of the sweet innocent little Xavier boy.”

“But expected it of me,” Erik points out. Charles laughs, his lips spreading back as he does. There is no one to hear him, no one who matters. Even if the normal humans, no, Charles shakes his head. That is a thought of Sebastian Shaw, victim three. First Janos, then Azazel, and then Shaw. Charles isn’t sure if the other man expected the betrayal, he certainly wasn’t prepared for Erik not being alone. 

He reaches up and digs his fingers into Erik’s hair tugging at the strands, making them messy. 

“Always of you darling, you are what people expect. I am not.” 

“Not until the end,” Erik reminds him. 

“Oh, oh yes, at that end. I was exactly what people expect to see in the darkness, but you remained in those thoughts as well.”

“I couldn’t let you fall without me,” Erik says. Charles hums low in his chest once more before he turns to look at his city, his beautiful city. 

“What do you think they will call us?” Charles inquires. 

“Kings, gods, terrors, something along those lines,” Erik muses. Charles curls a lock of Erik’s hair around his finger. 

“They’ll hate us at first, because they’ll remember. But then, eventually they’ll forget, and they will love us like we are their protectors.” 

“When they no longer know how powerful they once more.”

“They will fall to their knees.” 

*

Moira met Erik three days after Charles came home. She’d walked over to the other man’s home, intent on giving him a welcome home lunch out. The door opened to reveal not Charles but someone else. For a brief moment, Moira wondered who the handsome stranger was until his face morphed more towards an irritant and unimpressed gaze. It was like a slap to the face. 

She opened her mouth to demand to know who he was when Charles, bright eyed and innocent faced Charles, settled beside the tall glowering man, his hand on the man’s stomach, it looked possessive. Moira sucked in a breath, plastered on a smile and gave a small brief nod towards the other man’s direction. Charles seemed happy with that as he asked her to come in. 

“Moira, this is Erik. I met him while I was finding myself,” Charles said with a bright smile on his face. He looked at Erik like he was the best thing that had ever entered Charles’ posh life. Moira felt her smile slip into uneasy once Charles had his back turned. She could feel it in her bones Erik, whatever his last name was, was trouble. She didn’t know if he knew of Charles’ money or just thought to prey on someone like Charles, an innocent boy who the first time he’d stretched his legs found a man to take back with him.

Her smile snapped back the second Charles turned back around. His eyes seemed glassy, or maybe she was looking for something to explain why her childhood friend seemed so wrapped in the other man. Moira took another calming breath, she’d get through it and maybe she could talk to Charles without his looming new friend by his side. 

“How did you two meet?” she asked. Charles wrapped his hand around one of Erik’s wrist and pulled the entire hand to his lap. His own fingers stroked along the long, slender ones of Erik. One hand pulled back and then rested at the back of Erik’s neck, the other still stroking the hand. Erik leaned into the touch his eyes almost fluttering closed before they narrowed in on Moira. 

“Charles was lost. I helped him.” Moira nodded. She couldn’t help but think that it almost looked wrong for Charles to make such overt gestures of possessiveness. She was sure that Erik was playing her friend, he had to be, Moira was sure of it because Erik didn’t hold himself as a man who would submit. 

“I wasn’t that lost. I pretended mostly because there was something about you that drew me to you,” Charles spoke softly, almost as if he had forgotten that she was there at all. Erik smiled, except Moira wasn’t sure it could be considered a smile it was something very different than what a normal person could do. “Anyway, I spoke to him found him to be very special, and then I found that Erik had nowhere else to go. The rest I must say is history.” 

Moira didn’t know it; she still thought she had a foothold. She had been so sure that it was Erik that would end up ruining Charles, and she had been so sure that she could stop it all. But, it was that moment, that very moment in which she should’ve have realized that she’d never be able to influence Charles Xavier, he’d found his other half. The other side of his coin. The world of magic and wonder would end by their hands.


End file.
